


Indelible

by AFireInTheAttic



Series: inseperable [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ace!Scott, Asexual Character, Demi!Kira, Demisexual Character, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kira-centric, Spoilers for 3.16, misogynistic language tw, racist slurs tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFireInTheAttic/pseuds/AFireInTheAttic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s taken a picture of herself every night since she got her first camera phone. It was one of the reasons she begged her parents to let her upgrade to the Nokia Lumia when they renewed their contract—she likes selfies, and she likes Instagram, and she likes high quality phone pictures. It just wouldn’t be the same if she used a real camera.</p>
<p>Or: Kira found herself before she found Scott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indelible

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: “Could you please write another Scira fic?”
> 
> So I wrote a sequel.
> 
> Notes on triggers at the end.

Since starting to date Scott and finding out about werewolves (what a mess  _that_ was), Kira has figured out that literally nothing is as innocent as it seems. Including herself.

She's taken a picture of herself every night since she got her first camera phone. It was one of the reasons she begged her parents to let her upgrade to the Nokia Lumia when they renewed their contract—she likes selfies, and she likes Instagram, and she likes high quality phone pictures. It just wouldn't be the same if she used a real camera.

Before the aura—Lydia always calls it that—showed up, Kira always considered herself pretty average looking. She hadn't grown up in Asia, so she never really had to come to grips with being half-Korean and half-Japanese—no one here can tell the difference. But she does look at herself in the mirror, sees the way her nose belongs to her mother and her eyes belong to her father. Every night, she holds the camera at a different angle, tries to find what is uniquely hers about her face.

She thinks that's pretty normal, though, and eventually the aura  _did_  show up. That's pretty specific to her, she thinks, though she wonders about her parents and whether they're the same.

"Does your mom know you're a werewolf?" she asks Scott one day, while she's lying on her stomach next to him on his bed. 

He shifts and props his head up to look down at her instead of their shared textbook. "Yeah. She found out like a year ago."

"And she was okay with it?"

"Not at first," he says, and settles down again, so their faces are right next to each other. "She kinda freaked out for a while, but after she as okay with it, we got really close."

Kira smiles and tucks her face into her folded arms. "I can't imagine you two not being close."

He smiles back at her. "Mom has always been there for me. Before Stiles, and even sometimes when Stiles  _can't_  be there. But I was a terrible son for a while, so any distance was all my fault."

She purses her lips and shuts her eyes. "You were distant when you were keeping all the secrets from her, right?"

"Yeah," he says, softly. He moves one of his hands to her shoulder. "But I'm not trying to compare us, Kira. You don't even know exactly what you are or what it entails. And you and your dad are closer than most people."

She opens her eyes and smiles at him smiling at her before wiggling closer to him on the bed and kissing his cheek. "Thanks." She's not sure he's  _right_ , per se, but she doesn't think he's wrong, either.

She lifts her phone, then, and flips the camera around to face them. "Smile," she commands, and he beams.

In the picture, it's harder to tell who has distorted the image more—she's glowing everywhere, but his eyes are like flood lights.

"We look cute together," she says, and Scott laughs.

* * *

When she was 14, she took her first health class. Her first because when she transferred to Beacon Hills, they had apparently decided other high schools couldn't get it right, and she'd been enrolled  _again_.

But the first time, they mostly looked at gruesome slideshows that encouraged them to wear seat belts and condoms. Not at the same time, because obviously having sex in a moving car is pretty dangerous. 

And yeah, she was aware, even at 14, that people did that anyway.

The sex ed section essentially boiled down to what she'd learned in  _Mean Girls_ —if she did have sex, she'd probably get pregnant, and if she didn't die, she'd definitely pick up an STD.

She didn't learn a thing about sexuality in health either time she took it. In biology, they talked about animals going into heat and showed her cross sections of penises and vaginas that made her grimace. She paid attention anyway, because who knew? Maybe some day she'd want to know that sperm and pee have the same exit.

Actually, no. She never wanted to think about that.

"Sex seems pretty gross," she informed her father one day while she was setting the table. 

In the kitchen, her dad almost dropped his knife. "What? Are you having sex? Are you using condoms?"

"No!" she said immediately. "I mean I'm not sexually active, not that I'm not being safe—although I guess I'm not because I'm not having sex, so no condoms—"

"Kira," her dad interrupted, sounding vaguely exasperated. "What are you talking about?"

"I  _mean_ ," she sighed. "We're learning about human bodies and sex and they're really gross."

"Oh, well yeah," he agreed easily. "Sometimes that makes things more interesting, though."

"Oh, jeez,  _gross_! Why did I even bother having this conversation with you?" she wondered, and exited the dining room immediately.

Her dad laughed every time their eyes met at dinner.

* * *

Scott likes to go on dates. It's almost weird, because he's not doing it to try to get in her pants. It's not really because he's bored and wants to keep things interesting, either. It's more like...Scott wants to spend as much time as possible with her, which is impossibly sweet, and wholly Scott.

"What are you doing tonight?" Scott asks, bouncing on his toes a little. He's got this infectious grin and his hand is reaching out to grab hers.

"Homework," she muses. "Maybe some research on what to do when your boyfriend is too cute to function."

His smile grows even wider. "You think I'm cute?"

Questions like this still make her blush. She rocks forward until she can rest her forehead on his shoulder. "Stop." 

"Well, can I convince you to let your homework wait until tomorrow? Or can we just go to the park for a few hours?" He tugs on her hand until she leans back to look up at him again. 

She thinks about making him wait, but it's hard not to smile at Scott. "Yeah,  _okay_. But if my grade slips, Dad says he's dropping yours with it."

"He would never," he says, laughing.

"He might."

"No way." 

"I would," her father announces from behind Scott.

Scott jumps and whirls. "Whoa!"

"Have a nice time on your date tonight," he says cheerfully, and claps a hand on Scott's shoulder once. "And maybe try to eat something a little adventurous, like kimchi."

"He doesn't know how to make kimchi," Kira points out. "And I'm really bad at it."

"Sounds like one of your dates should be a cooking lesson with a really good chef...maybe a cool dad." He gives them a significant look.

Kira covers her eyes with a slap.

"That sounds really awesome, Mr. Yukimura," Scott enthuses. "I'll talk to you about it later. I don't think I'll have time this weekend, but maybe sometime next weekend, after we finish our history projects."

"An excellent choice," her father says, smiling. "See you at home, Kira. Have a nice day, Scott!"

"My dad is the worst," Kira sighs.

"I can't agree with you because he may hear me and decide to cut me out of his scrapbooks," Scott replies seriously.

"He doesn't have scrapbooks."

"He's showed them to me."

She looks at him. "You're kidding."

He raises one eyebrow. 

"You have to be."

He shakes his head once.

She groans and covers her face with both hands this time.

Scott laughs. "Okay, okay, I'm kidding."

"Not funny," she says, and punches his arm. 

He grins at her and rubs it. "Sorry, sorry!"

Hands on her hips, she raises an eyebrow. "You better learn to make the best damn kimchi I've ever tasted."

He winces. "Fingers crossed." Then he leans forward and kisses her quickly. "Park?"

She melts at his dimples and nods. "Park."

* * *

She's messing around on the Internet when she runs across the definition of asexuality, nods thoughtfully, and then goes back to watching videos of cats playing the piano.

Two days later, she's wiping her lips furiously after having been kissed by some jerk who, apparently, was into "Oriental bitches like you."

She feels humiliated and disgusting, which she tries to explain to her best friend.

Leanne blinks at her. "But...he's hot. Was it really that bad?"

Kira's not even sure what bothers her the most. That he called her oriental and a bitch? That he kissed her without asking? That she told her best friend and all she had to say was that he was hot? 

_Was_  he hot?

Objectively, she could see it. But she wasn't really attracted to him. That might have something to do with his stunning and fairly racist personality. "He called me Oriental. And a bitch."

"He didn't mean it like that," Leanne said, rolling her eyes. "Come on. He's cute, right?"

"I guess so," she mutters, but she doesn't really think so. How can anyone be cute with that terrible of a personality? She sat through the class without bringing it up again, but it kept bothering her. Should she be feeling some kind of burning in her groin? That's how her mom had described sexual attraction when she was 12 and asking more questions about sex.

Unbidden, the definition for asexuality comes to mind. Has she  _ever_  experienced sexual attraction? She can't think of a time. She sorts through everything she's gone through in the past couple months and draws blank after blank. Maybe she's a late bloomer. 

Or maybe she'll never bloom.

On the bright side, she doesn't have to worry about being attracted to a racist white guy.

* * *

They sit with their limbs tangled on the merry-go-round, still spinning from when Scott pushed them off.

Kira has 7 fingers up and she says, contemplatively, "Never have I ever had a crush on someone older than me."

Scott puts down a finger, bringing him down to four. "Allison is a year older than me," he explains, and then taps his remaining four fingers on his chin. "Never have I ever...gotten drunk."

Kira wiggles her fingers at him and shrugs. "Neither of my parents drink and I never had a real interest in it."

"I never drank until I was bitten, and now I can't get drunk," Scott explains miserably. "Also, I'm going to lose this game."

"Yeah, well, I'm really boring," she tells him, leaning forward and grinning.

Scott gives her an incredulous look. "I think you mean perfect."

She's always smiling when she's with Scott. Part of it is that he's usually smiling, and part of it is that he's always saying nice things to her. She leans forward and kisses him quickly. Against his mouth, she says, "Never have I ever...eaten a homemade enchilada."

He kisses her back. "Me either. Mom doesn't like 'em."

"Darn," she mumbles. It's easy to steal another kiss from him, to lick the edge of his lips and wait, patient, until he opens up for her and sighs into her mouth. These are the moments she loves—slowing down on a merry go round while her heart speeds up, in time with Scott's. She can feel his pulse through his thumbs. One of them is resting on her open palm; the other is sliding up her arm to curl around her neck.

He draws back to say, "Never have I ever failed at making kimchi."

She groans and puts a finger down. "Jerk."

"I know," he says, and then giggles at his own joke.

"I didn't even know you knew that song," she says, smiling despite herself. "Never have I ever been called ‘the hot girl.’"

He laughs harder now. "That can't even be true," he argues, even as he puts his finger down. "You're the hottest girl. So hot."

"Too late," she says, starting to laugh with him. "At the time it was said, I had not been called 'the hot girl.'"

"That's brutal," Scott says. "Your dad is gonna kill me. I have to call you hot more often."

"Okay with me," she replies.

* * *

After the fiasco with Leanne and the racist jerk, Kira spent a lot of time researching sexuality. She probably knew more about the asexuality spectrum than any other 15 year old at her school, and tentatively marked herself down as asexual.

Then Julie happened.

Julie was  _perfect._ Kira met her when she glided into math class in three-inch heels and a pink blouse over a grey pencil skirt. She sat next to Kira without waiting for the teacher to introduce her as the new student, and rather than standing at the front of the room, waved from her seat, said, "My name is Julie, and I'm not going to help you with your math homework just because I’m from India."

Kira knew they had to be best friends, and Julie didn't seem to mind, based on the way she smiled over at her. "Cute shoes," she said, gesturing at the combat boots. Kira had painted daisies on them with white-out and then colored them yellow with a highlighter, the way Sam had in  _All-American Girl_. 

"Thank you," she whispered, awestruck.

At lunch, the two of them sat together. "I don't want you to think I'm befriending you purely because you're Asian," Julie explained as she chewed on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "But I kind of am. I just figured you'd understand people asking for your help in calculus and shit. I mean, I  _could_ help them, but I'd probably get everything wrong. I just started Algebra 2 this year. Why should I know?"

Kira had nodded enthusiastically. "No, I totally get it. Totally. I'm not actually very good at math, but I really like history and English. I kind of have to like history, though. My dad teaches World History, here, actually, so I've kind of been raised on it."

"Cool," Julie said. 

It wasn't cool, back then, but Julie kind of made her feel like it could be. She liked Kira's dad well enough, even though she wasn't very good at remembering dates. 

She always wore heels, and on Fridays, she brought vegetarian curry for lunch. "It's my favorite food," she confessed. "Mom makes it  _so well_. She promised to teach me when I turned 16. Oh! You should come and learn, too! My parents would love you."

They did. And Julie's mother taught them how to make all sorts of traditional Indian food, even more than just curry. 

"My mom is a bad cook," Kira confessed after the third time she botched her biryani. "I think she passed it to me."

Julie had giggled. "You better hope I'm always around to fix your mistakes," she teased, and then reached across Kira to take the dish out of the way. 

“Yeah, you better be,” she teased right back, and then had a mental meltdown. Because—she really wanted Julie to always be around.

Holy crap. She was completely in love with Julie, who was only supposed to be her friend. And not only that, but the sight of her in a dress and heels was really,  _really_ , working for her.

Kira went home and researched  _everything_  all over again. She found the missing link in the second hour—demisexuality, something she'd always dismissed in the past. But now it didn't seem so unlikely. Because she was thinking about how much she wanted to kiss Julie, and maybe a whole lot more. 

"What are you doing?" her mom asked, leaning in the door.

"Researching," she said grimly, her eyes scanning the short entry on the AVENwiki over and over again. 

Her mom crossed the room to rest her hand on her shoulders. "Interesting stuff," she murmured after reading the brief entry herself. "Is it for you or a friend?" Her mother  _knew_ , of course, but she still offered that out.

Kira spun in her chair and hugged her mom around the waist. It was just nice to know whatever she was—demi, ace, maybe even pan, who really knew—her parents wouldn't tell her she was wrong.

* * *

Scott doesn't buy her things, really. It's probably because he spends half the time completely broke and the other half with just enough money to put gas in his bike. Deaton has given him one raise since they started dating, but Scott puts most of his paycheck into savings. "College is hard to get into," he says grimly one day, kicking at a pile of leaves. "And I had that whole semester of, like, Cs and Ds sophomore year. So even if I get a scholarship, I'll probably still have to pay. College boards are really unforgiving."

"It's true," Kira agrees. "Don't feel bad, Scott. I've only dated one other person before, and she never bought me anything, either."

"You dated a girl?" Scott asks with vague interest. He doesn't really wait for an answer before pointing at the porch swing. "Do you want to sit?"

"Yes, and yes," she says, and he grabs her hand happily.

Once they're settled in on the swings, Scott says, "Are you  _sure_  you're okay with it? I can borrow money from Stiles or something."

"No, it's fine," she says, waving a hand. She glances at him and only sees earnestness, not even vague curiosity about Julie. At least not that she can see. "Like I said, I'm used to it."

"But...I want to be the best boyfriend possible," Scott sighs, leaning forward miserably. 

"You're pretty great," she says, and giggles. He still looks upset, so she says, "Never have I ever had a celebrity crush."

Scott groans and immediately holds up both palms to put one finger down. "It was Jennifer Lopez, after I watched Maid in Manhattan. She reminded me of my mom, actually. I think I just wanted her to move in with us. Maybe date my mom."

"That's so stupidly cute," she tells him, and happily kisses one of his fingertips. "I think we should date forever."

He beams. "Okay. I'm in."

She laughs a lot, when she's with him.

* * *

The first time she cleaned blood off of her hands, she'd just killed someone to save Scott. 

Scott had been crumpled on the floor and Derek had been slumped behind him, looking distressed and howling weakly.

The dark men who looked like they had taken their costumes from a Harry Potter movie were slowly moving toward Scott, and Kira realized, dimly, that she was the only one still standing in the room.

Mentally, she apologized to Derek, and yanked down some wiring from the hole that he still hadn't repaired in his loft. It took her several long seconds to break the wires, and by the time she'd finished, she'd cut up her fingers. She couldn't feel anything, which she assumed was the adrenaline, but it didn't matter, because the wires were sparking and she—

"Hey!" she shouted.

Only one of the shadowy figures turned to look at her. That was a mistake.

She didn't know what she was doing, but the electricity—it was hers to direct. She let out her own howl, though it was more guttural and snarly than the one the wolves frequently used to communicate. The electricity blending with her blood exploded outward and the figures lit up.

It wasn't like before, when the sun just made them sort of dissipate. She could feel them dying, because the electricity was still coursing through her and into them. This would end. Now.

That was the second time she shut down the power to the city, and the first time she fainted from blood loss.

It was the first time she killed someone; five someones. But it wouldn’t be the last.

* * *

Eventually, she wants to have sex with Scott, just like she eventually wanted to with Julie. Julie had been hesitant and so they hadn’t done much—mostly they’d groped each other while making out. Once they’d stripped to nothing but underwear, which had been _awesome_. But it hadn’t really ever been a huge deal to Kira that they weren’t having sex. As much as she wanted to, she’d wanted Julie to be happy more.

But Scott likes sex. He’d explained as much the day he’d found out about being ace. So she doesn’t feel weird, the night after the faeries, when she says, “I might want to have sex one day.”

And it’s okay, because Scott’s only problem with it is that he doesn’t have condoms.

It’s not until several days later that she confesses her virginity.

“So you and Julie never…?” He lets the sentence trail off, obviously shy about asking. He never seems to mind hearing about Julie or the things they used to do, but sometimes he doesn’t really know what to respond with.

Kira shook her head. “Julie had a really low sex drive and kind of wanted to wait until she was married. Which was fine with me! She was also kind of nervous about everything, so no, I mean, I never really touched her beneath the belt.”

“Was she planning on marrying you?” he wonders. He won’t look at her face, but he takes her hand in his and starts playing with her fingers a little. “Did you plan on marrying her?”

“I never really thought about it,” she admits easily. She kisses the top of his ducked head. “We were only 15.”

“We’re only 17,” he points out.

“Yeah, and we’ve been through a _lot_ together. I’m not saying I’m planning on marrying you, either, so like, don’t misunderstand me—but I’m not opposed to the idea, probably? Unless it freaks you out, in which case—I have no opinion.”

As usual, Scott doesn’t let her babbling bother him. “You were opposed to marrying Julie?”

“It wasn’t really feasible,” she says. “Gay marriage wasn’t legal in very many places.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. He looks up at her. His brow is adorably wrinkled.

She reaches out to smooth it. “Don’t worry. I’m _kind_ _of_ here for you, now. Julie’s in the past.”

“You still facebook her.”

“We’re still friends. Like you and Allison.”

“Oh,” he says, face clearing. “Yeah! Okay. Well, anyway, I’ve only had sex with Allison, so it’s not a big deal that you’re a virgin. I’ll just make sure your first time goes well! No pain, all pleasure.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

She laughs even as she turns bright red, lifting her hand to cover her face.  “That’s so forward.”

“I know. I’m trying new things.”

“I like regular Scott.”

“Not new Scott?”

“He’s okay. I guess I like every version of you there is.”

His smile fades and his face gets really intense. “Good,” he says. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” she whispers. She can’t look away from him or move because it feels like this moment has to last forever. She never wants anyone else to look at her the way Scott’s looking right now. Like she’s perfect and _his—_

Maybe he moves first, but it feels like she’s moving with him, until their noses are brushing. He tilts his head just enough to slot their faces comfortably.

He closes his eyes before she does, slow like molasses, and _perfect_ , and, _shit_ , she loves him.

When they kiss, it’s a declaration, a gift, a wonder. She’s feeling so much of everything—his soft lips, his delicate fingers, the tiny curls of hair at the back of his neck, and she loves him. She _loves_ Scott McCall, and she doesn’t think a world exists where she doesn’t.

Later, when she’s at home, she sends a message to Julie about it. “I think I’m in love with him,” she types. And maybe it’s strange that she talks to her ex about things like this, but she and Julie were friends before they were more, and their parting had been amicable, so maybe it’s okay.

Or maybe Julie will get distant and Kira will regret everything. Maybe she will wonder if Julie was the one she still wanted and if Julie still wanted her.

But Julie answers in less than ten minutes with, “OMG!! That’s so cute!” and Kira thinks it’s all right.

* * *

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” her dad said, the morning after the faeries, when Scott has slipped away. “Your mom, too. I don’t want to go the overbearing dad route, but I am a little worried about you. You’ve seemed a little distant lately.”

“It’s nothing, Dad,” she said quietly. “Just…there’s a lot going on.”

“Ah, youth,” he said sagely, nodding. “It’s a rough time for all of us.”

She smiled at him.

And then promptly frowned, when he said, “Is it because you and Scott are having sex? I know that’s weird for you. Do you need some condoms?”

She groaned and rolled over until her face was tucked into her pillow. Scott’s pillow, actually—or at least the one he’d slept on the night before. It smells like his shampoo. “I hate you.” Then she considered. “But yeah, if you want to buy me condoms.”

“I don’t,” he said, and patted her head. “If the two of you want to have sex, finance it yourself.”

“You’re terrible. I’m going to get pregnant just to spite you.”

“Sure you are,” he placated her. “You know, when I was young and having my very first sexual experiences, I didn’t want to talk to my parents about it. So I did some very dumb things, like not using a dental dam when going down on my girlfriend. But I’m sure Scott won’t make that mistake. I would be very upset if any kind of infections were passed between the two of you.”

“Dad, where would we even have picked anything up?” she demanded, and then pushed her face harder into the pillow. “You are the worst. Go to jail; do not collect 200.”

“You can never be too safe, sweetheart,” he reasoned. “And I know Scott is very concerned about your safety.”

She screamed into the pillow.

Her dad cackled—and it really, _really_ couldn’t be described as anything else—and repeated, “Remember. You can talk to me about anything. Even the things that make you uncomfortable.”

“Okay, okay, just get out!” she groaned.

* * *

On a Wednesday, she takes Scott’s hand and shyly says, “Will you come over this afternoon?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Um, sure.” He looks at her carefully. “But why are you nervous?”

“I want to tell mom and dad about it,” she says meaningfully. “And I want you to be there. Not to tell them about werewolves! Just to…I don’t know, support me? I’m kind of scared. They were really chill about me dating a girl and being demi, but like—I don’t know, this feels as scary as coming out _should_ feel. So, like—“

“Yeah, totally,” Scott says brightly, cutting her off before she can really work up a good panic.

Her shoulders slump, and she grins at him. “ _Thank you_ ,” she says happily, and kisses him deeply.

“Come on, take it to a janitor’s closet _at_ _least_ ,” her dad complains as he walks by.

She squeezes open an eye to look at him, and he winks at her.

Scott’s fingers brush the skin right under the hem of her shirt and she cuddles closer to him. This is the best part of her day—standing on her toes and kissing the cutest and greatest boy in the world, who kisses her like she’s precious and delicious all at once.

“Love you,” she murmurs when they part briefly to breathe.

He immediately kisses her again, but he can’t stop smiling, so the kiss is weirder than normal. “Love you, too.”

“Good,” she whispers. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

“I’m good with that,” he says. “Let’s date forever.”

“I’m in.”

They laugh a lot, when they’re together.

**Author's Note:**

> There's one instance of Kira being called an "Oriental bitch." The guy who does so also kisses her without her consent. It's not described, so I didn't tag it, but it is addressed in the story, so tread carefully if that will trigger you.


End file.
